


I Believe In Us

by FactoryKat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Developing Relationship, Dragon Age II - Act 3, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Hawke (Dragon Age) is Bad at Feelings, Male-Female Friendship, Named Hawke (Dragon Age), Rogue Hawke (Dragon Age), Romantic Fluff, Sweet Fenris (Dragon Age), but bless her for trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:44:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: They had hardly said two words to one another since - well since she had spectacularly bungled everything. Or in which Hawke and Fenris talk about them and their feelings for each other.





	I Believe In Us

**Author's Note:**

> For context: my Hawke flirted with everyone, slept with Isabela, then Fenris. When he left her, she moved on to Merrill but realized they weren't compatible at all and she still had deep feelings for Fenris. Devyn (like Bela) was very non-committal and afraid of latching on to anyone but then Fenris came into her life.

Night had encompassed the whole of Kirkwall like a thick curtain hours ago, and yet the rain falling in heavy sheets showed no signs of ceasing anytime soon. Devyn had little patience as it was, and waiting for the dismal weather to let up was currently her only option. She could hear Bethany, in her sweet yet frustrating way, already chiding her for thinking of parading around Hightown in this downpour. Mother as well would have been just as quick to persuade her against stepping foot out the door, but  _ Maker's bloody mercy _ , Devyn felt like she was going stir crazy. Cabin fever did not suit the rogue, not one bit, and she nursed a deep yearning, an ache that swelled in her heart, not just for fresh air. 

A knock on the front door hours earlier had sent her pulse racing and raised the fine hairs along the back of her neck in jittery anticipation. However, the swell of her chest deflated after finding it had only been Uncle Gamlen, come round with a tired and unusually cagey smile after his roof had sprung a leak during the storm. She hung back beneath the covered archway in front of the estate's door and looked on at the empty streets with a sour frown twisting her lips. 

Laughter carried across the square and drew her eyes to a couple caught in the torrent, linked arm in arm as they rushed past to seek shelter. Glower deepening, her arms snaked across her chest and folded, one over the other, tightly in a defiant posture as she kicked a stray pebble across the stone path.

Stupid rain. Stupid happy lovers, stupid-

"Hawke?" A low voice from her right called, the sound a throaty bass that never failed to reach her somewhere on an intensely personal level.

She sucked in air and bristled. Damn him for being able to get the drop on her like this, but it was a sign her usually sharp mind was not with her. Her arms fell to her sides, and Devyn turned with checked reservation to see the elf approach. 

He stalked forward with a sureness reflected in his green eyes.

"Fenris?" She questioned, pensive but genuinely interested in what had brought him around at this hour. "You do know it's rain-"

Her query was silenced by the satin of skin against skin, his hand on her cheek and face far closer than she had expected. " _ Kaffas _ ," he muttered in a breathy voice before filling the space between them with his lips on hers. The kiss, slow and thoughtful rather than feverish was no less passionate than their first, years ago. 

Devyn's hands took on their own will and grasped at him enthusiastically, urging him on and pulling a pleased rumble from his throat. Though he broke away before she could lose herself in the haze of pleasure, he lingered near and drank her in as they stood there under the stars with the rain pelting them. As rivulets traveled down her face, he followed one down along the curvature of her nose and jaw with a bare finger. 

"That night," he began, tangling his other hand in her hair steadily taking on more water, already significantly damp and hanging around her shoulders. "I remember your touch as if it were yesterday."

Nonfulfillment knotted her insides together, but she withheld from grabbing the elf and pulling him in to continue their scene. It wasn't that she didn't want to hear this, but need and desire fought for dominance with patience. She stamped them down. "We never talked about what happened." They hadn't. They had hardly said two words to one another since - well since she had spectacularly bungled everything.

When he didn't respond, she kept going. "I was a complete idiot. There. Happy? It was you. From the moment we became friends, but I was too damned stubborn to listen to my own heart."

"So I have been told." Fenris mused quietly, but not so quiet that she couldn't hear. 

It was a curious line, but she didn't want to know, moreover she didn't want to confirm her suspicions. So she left it. "I made assumptions. Stupid ones. Then after you left, well, I wasn't about to ask for something you weren't ready to give either. Especially not when I wasn't even sure what  _ I _ wanted."

He never tore his eyes away, and she relished how he studied every inch of her, even soaking wet as she was from the continued drizzle. 

"I think I understand," Fenris replied, carefully processing every word in his way. He listened, genuinely, she had realized early on. Even if he didn't comment on something, she knew he heard and absorbed it all. To be honest, she was almost envious of his capacity to do so.

When the rain picked up in its intensity, the two both cast their eyes skyward, and Devyn found herself especially put off. However, it was Fenris who invited her towards the door, open to reveal the anteroom of her estate. "Shall we go inside? I would like to continue."

She sucked in through her teeth as she turned and felt the presence of his hand, hovering just at her back as he fell in line behind her. The weight of his palm, not even making contact with her body, was desire. It was  _ need _ . It was driving her bloody mad is what it was. The door thudded solidly as it closed, breaking the controlled rhythm of her breathing, startling her. Devyn turned, spun on her heel expecting - well, she wasn't sure what, but Fenris' face was a mask of composed neutrality. Leveling her eyes on him curiously, she watched him drink in the lavish interior. The warm lighting cast shadows across the estate's maroon floors and slate grey walls, over the thick velvet draperies, carved tables, and overstuffed chairs arranged precisely in front of a roaring hearth.

"You are a frustrating woman, Hawke. I find myself thinking of you when I should not be."

His matter-of-fact statement won a chuckle in response as she drifted to the kitchens without so much as a suggestion, promptly returning with a bottle and two glasses. Wine. It was always best when shared amongst friends. Or, whatever they were.

There was no sign of Gamlen that she could see or determine, something Devyn found relief in, not for lack of care, of course. "And should I take that as a compliment?" She probed, smiling guardedly as she poured the drinks.

When the corner of the elf's lips twitched and curled as he grabbed one goblet, she felt a surge of pride and smug satisfaction. He needn't say anything either, that was enough of an answer. Devyn sunk into one oversized armchair, not waiting for Fenris to follow her lead but silently hoping he would and pleased when he did. No words were exchanged for three whole ticks, and she had lost herself in that window of time, gazing at the bottle conveniently between them and taking absent-minded sips. 

"When I was 14," she began so suddenly as if the bottle had tripped a memory. And it had. "I thought I was in love." Interest crossed Fenris's face, heavy brows lifting higher on his forehead, but he waited silently in his customary way, listening close. He had shared many stories in their time spent together, it only seemed fair that she reciprocated. "I met a girl in the village where I lived, and we became friends. Good friends, in fact. So, naturally, being young and impulsive, I thought I was in love with her and stole Mother's bottle of expensive Antivan wine she had been saving for a special occasion, one that she had my father had bought for her as a present."

Devyn paused to take a drink, and Fenris curiously interjected. "You were going to give it to her." 

She laughed, perhaps for the first time in days, and nodded along. "Yup." A low chuckle floated over, and Dev could not distinguish the heat growing in her cheeks to be from the wine or that. "Until I caught her in the barn with some boy from the village. I was horrified, heartbroken, and ran home to my mother. She was furious that I'd stolen the wine, but once she got over it, well, she was there to console me. I suppose in the end it was best. Since we moved so much, there is no way I would have been able to maintain a relationship."

Understanding settled on Fenris's face, the implication of her words sinking it and standing to the reason for her flighty nature. "Yes. I can see how that would be difficult." 

"Oh!" Devyn proclaimed, bouncing higher in her seat with a giggle caught in her throat and a wicked smile pulling on her lips, "You'll enjoy this one…" 

*~*

The two continued for a while longer, sharing stories and engaging in light discussion before the excitement tapered off into a serene silence that lasted only a passing moment before Devyn stood up from her seat. They had polished off the bottle…

"Fen?" She queried, pausing before she could get far from her chair.

Fenris responded but did not acknowledge the shortened name. "Hm?"

"If you, hypothetically, had a chance to go back and do something over again, would you?"

He stood as well in a smooth transition from the chair to his feet, meeting her eyes. "I would, yes. Hypothetically."

She mulled over the answer briefly before stepping closer, shortening the distance between them. "And," she coaxed.

"And?"

"What would you have said?"

They were less than an arm's length apart now, and Fenris mirrored her actions from outside by brushing the hair from her eyes. "That nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you." 

She balked, nearly choking on air as her breath caught in her throat, and her stomach rolled over on itself in unbridled giddiness that threatened to overtake her and ruin the utterly poignant moment. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she balled fists at her sides, struggling to find the courage to say the damned words. Why was it so hard?

"Then don't." She asserted, simply, finding nothing else was sufficient to explain what she felt. 

Fortune smiled upon her at least, as Fenris interpreted her meaning. He scooped her into his arms in a swift movement and balanced her precariously, back against the wall. 

One corner of her mouth quirked as she studied him again, shock white hair still matted down by the rains, yet he seemed unperturbed. She had to laugh a little and pushed it out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Fenris. For not coming to you sooner, for not knowing how to talk about it. For making you think-" Ugh. Devyn battled the guilty feelings churning inside. It took swallowing her pride to force the words to continue flowing. "For making you think I didn't care about you. Because  _ Maker's breath _ , I do, and I can't stop thinking about it."

There was always something ever so slightly smug about his smiles, Devyn noticed, but they softened his face. "Then don't," he repeated her words, but the delivery of the line was very much his own, and the low register of his voice caressed the senses just right.


End file.
